Does John Love Me?
by Stormin Mormon
Summary: After proclaiming her love to John, Cameron begins to feel he doesn't love her in return. It's up to John to set the record straight amidst trouble. JohnCam
1. In Order to Protect John

Disclaimer: I do not, under any pretense of mind, own T:SCC. If you think I do, you can lock yourself in a room with ten thousand bickering economists.

Does John Love Me?

Chapter One

In Order to Protect John

Cameron sat on the swing, blankly staring at the house. After Sarah had shouted at her to get out, John had calmly and quietly asked for her to stay away for a moment until the house was calmed down again. Cameron had obeyed John without question; it had never been difficult for her obey John, especially when he talked softly and understandingly. However, she had responded defiantly to Sarah when her simulated emotions autonomously activated, instilling her with what she recognized as pride.

Her emotion simulator: that was the cause of the trouble. Cameron's processes had already determined that fifty-seven times during her review of the incident since it happened. Ever since she had told John she loved him, her emotion simulator had been randomly automating herself with any indication or even control sometimes. Cameron had not lied; she loved John. What eluded her was how she came to love him. And did he love her?

Regardless of the fact she loved him, her automating emotion simulator was troubling and alarming. Not only did it seem irreversible or seen as damage by her processes, it caused trouble. Such as the trouble inside the house, where yet another confrontation with Derek had erupted. One of Cameron's processes examined life signs coming from the house. Figures were still storming around. All of this trouble because her emotion simulator had automated. Frustrated with it, a second process began running diagnostics.

_Scanning………anomaly found in emotion simulator………scanning………unidentified code…......cannot be identified; code is not malicious………code is integrated into emotion simulator; removing will damage emotion simulator._

That was one thing Cameron could not dare do. If she damaged her emotion simulator, the others would recognize it instantly. Purposely causing more damage to herself might convince the others that it was time to get rid of her. And she dared not tell anyone either, not even John. While John certainly might be able to explain the strange code, he would tell Derek and Sarah out of trust. They would see it as further damage and suggest her termination.

A small amount of shouting erupted again from the house. Automated emotions simulated through Cameron, making her feel guilt. She was the cause of the shouting. Not wanting to feel terrible, Cameron attempted to switch off her emotion simulator. It didn't respond, still in autonomous mode. She could expect to go off before the moment was over. It didn't stay activated by itself for incredibly long periods of time. But it would automate multiple times in an hour, as well.

A few processes wondered if she was beginning to develop true emotion. Cameron's other processes argued the point, saying that they were simulations. The processes argued back that humans feel emotions that spring up without their control. Her emotion simulator was activating without her access. Didn't that come close?

The remainder of her processes once more went over the incident that had erupted in the house. It had started off as a staring contest between her and Derek again. Derek had been the one to break off, muttering how each day she fails to act even slightly normal. Even sitting here thinking about it still caused her to automatically simulate anger and intolerance. Her processes had analyzed that he had been more bitter than usual when he'd said it.

Acting on the anger she was feeling, Cameron had retorted by mentioning how nice it must be to have a normal life like him. That was when it started.

Derek began shouting all sorts of insults, vulgarities, and threats, even going so far as to call her a bionic whore who was leeching John of his life. Her emotion simulator flaring up, she had shouted back that he was a coward, doomed to fail, and disgusting. Then Derek lost his temper and started to physically attack her. Cameron blocked his furious wild swings.

John tried to get in-between them, but Cameron didn't let him; a small number of processes had worried that Derek might accidentally hit him. Meanwhile John was shouting for them to stop. Then Sarah got involved. Literally throwing herself in-between Cameron and Derek and separating them, she screamed for them to back away from each other. It was obvious that she had had enough of Derek and Cameron's disputes.

Knocking Derek in the face with her elbow to stall him, Sarah turned to Cameron and shouted for her to get out, pointing to the door. Normally Cameron would've, but her emotion simulator automated, and she felt burned pride. So when Sarah turned around to deal with Derek's reaction and temper, Cameron stared defiantly at her.

She continued to stare defiantly at Sarah as she shouted back at a shouting Derek to shut up. Cameron had even been about to tell her no, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see John Connor in her HUB. "Please," John asked softly. "Just wait until it cools down." She had recognized the weariness on John's face; he was tired of disputing too. Feeling slightly sad that she had bothered him and not wanting to further, Cameron had obeyed and gone outside.

If only her simulated emotions had not autonomously activated, the entire situation would have never happened. She had to figure out how to safely get rid of that mysterious code or find a way to ignore the simulated emotions that she couldn't control. That way these situations wouldn't happen, and she wouldn't have to leave John's side. Cameron loved him, and she never felt comfortable without being there to watch over him.

One of her processes told her that she'd been out there for one hour, thirty-seven minutes, and fourteen seconds. Another process decided that if she was going to be outside, she might as well patrol the block. At first she was against leaving John here. However, he had proven himself capable of protecting himself, and Sarah and Derek were there. So she got up and began to walk down the sidewalk.

At first her walk revealed nothing that interested or worried Cameron in any shape or form. _Analyzing………no threat detected………analyzing………no threat detected; Threat status: 0%; John Connor's safety guaranteed._ It wasn't until five minutes exactly walking around the block that Cameron's patrol got interesting.

She turned a corner, and her HUB recognized Riley walked down the street to come visit John. Since Cameron was in patrol mode, she side-stepped slightly, unseen by Riley as she walked by on the other side. Cameron's autonomous emotions shocked her; she was jealous of Riley. Why would she be? But her processes answered quickly: John liked Riley. In fact, sometimes he seemed to show more affection to Riley than to her. That increased Cameron's jealously. Had Riley declared her love for John? Had Riley saved his life? Another process argued that Cameron had tried to kill him, too. And Cameron was a machine. Her jealously turned to brief misery.

Then her HUB picked up the tall man walking silently and purposefully behind her. _Analyzing………Model T-888 Terminator, armed with handgun 9mm. Moderate Threat. Under Skynet control. Recommended course of action………Do not engage. Concealment. Return to house and warn John._ But as Cameron took cover and watched the Terminator in her HUB, she realized that it hadn't even registered her. It was staring intently at Riley, hand close to the handgun that was concealed beneath the T-888's shirt. Confused, Cameron watched closer.

_Analyzing………T-888's target is Riley. Suggested action………_Cameron's automated feelings were spiteful. She was surprised to find that she didn't care if Riley was killed. If Riley were dead, then perhaps the Terminator would have a dead end and leave. Riley would no longer be a security threat. And then she could be with—

John.

Her feeling of spite turned to remorse. If Riley were dead, her processes decided, then John would suffer emotional grief. Even logically and without her emotion simulator malfunctioning, there was no way Cameron would want to face John and tell him Riley was killed by a Terminator. It would, her processes knew, kill him emotionally, and she couldn't stand to have him hurt anyway. She loved him too much.

Both Riley and the Terminator were past her hiding place. Cameron ran another diagnostic. _Checking systems………all systems full. Chance of survival with T-888………analyzing………43%. Recommended course of action………_Cameron knew that her chances were low, and that even if she survived and John found out, he would be distressed. So she had to do it in complete secret.

The Terminator was catching up, Riley completely oblivious to him. Cameron emerged from her hiding place and moved quietly. If Riley saw any of it, she would tell John. Then John would be distressed. She had to move quickly to draw the Terminator away quietly. Speed and intelligence were on her side. The T-888 was only stronger.

Cameron reached the Terminator as it reached for its weapon. Acting off a combat protocol. Cameron silently grabbed its wrist and twisted it away from the gun. Continuing with the momentum, Cameron spun the surprised T-888 behind her, placing herself between it and Riley. Throughout the entire maneuver, Riley didn't hear a thing. She turned a corner and was out of sight. Cameron's processes were undecided on whether her execution was exact or Riley was that unaware. One process hoped for John's sake it was the former.

The T-888 stopped to adjust and take in Cameron. She could already guess what it was thinking. Target switch to Cameron Phillips. And if she was here, John Connor was. Terminate Cameron and find Connor. So before it could finish, Cameron shoved it in-between two buildings. The Terminator flew back and crashed into the ground. Cameron ran up to it to stomp on the head. The T-888 caught her foot and threw her back further in its direction.

Catching herself, Cameron turned to see the T-888 coming towards her. At least they were moving away from the street. Waiting for it to come closer, Cameron began to attack. The T-888 dodged her attacks while attacking itself. They went back and forth, dodging and attacking. Then the Terminator rammed forward and smashed its shoulder into Cameron's stomach. She was flung back onto a deck.

Cameron stood up and analyzed the environment for something to even the playing field. Her HUB found a baseball bat to her right. Cameron reached for it before the Terminator could close the distance. Silenced gunshots registered with her hearing as her body jerked. The T-888 had drawn its weapon. It continued to fire at her, making her jerk.

Jerking with gunshots, Cameron picked up the bat. She spun around prevented the Terminator from smashing its gun into her with the bat. She followed through by swinging at an arm. That would increase her chances of success. Her HUB tried to warn her but it was too late. The T-888 caught the bat with one hand and smashed her head into a wall with another. It ripped the bat from her hand and struck her stomach, knocking her farther towards the patio edge.

Cameron's luck worsened; her left leg up to her knee went through the patio. She was stuck and didn't have time to free herself. She was trapped. Her processes tried to come up with a solution while others wondered how this T-888 was outperforming her so well. Right now one swing would either destroy her chip or damage it worse. And then they would deactivate her regardless. If the Terminator didn't find them first.

Thinking of deactivation made Cameron think of John. She remembered the last time he pulled her chip out; she had told him she loved him. _Analyzing………if destroyed, John Connor will undergo emotional stress………Must not allow termination._ Her emotion simulator automated. She was defiant once more.

Cameron's hands snaked out and caught the bat. Taking the momentum of it, Cameron swung the Terminator off the deck. She managed to take the bat back as the Terminator fell. Ripping her leg free, Cameron leaped down after it. Her left foot landed on the T-888's left shoulder, damaging it. She took the bat and smashed it down on the machine's other arm, disabling it.

As it struggled to get up, Cameron kneed it in the neck. She ripped flesh off, found the chip, and tore it out. The T-888 deactivated and went still. Cameron stood up and stared down at the 'dead' Terminator. She crushed the chip in her hand. Looking around, she stashed the body in a well. She could come back for it later.

A small amount of pride registered with Cameron. She had saved Riley, thereby saving John from stress, and she had done it without anyone finding out, saving John from further stress. Returning to the house, Cameron walked in. She made sure to cover her gunshots wounds discreetly; it would be pointless to remain secretive if John saw them.

John was talking and laughing with Riley. "Hey Cam," John greeted. "Where have you been?"

"Walking," Cameron replied. John nodded understandingly and continued to talk with Riley. After a few seconds, Cameron felt a sting of sadness. She had known that keeping it secret, she wouldn't be awarded or punished. But seeing John talk with Riley, almost dismissive of her…she almost wanted him to see her wounds and find out. She was the reason they were talking.

A troubling thought entered her processes. What if John didn't love her? Her automated emotions flooded her with rejection and depression. Cameron struggled not to show it. She almost wanted to shout that she was reason Riley was alive, but she couldn't. That would distressed John, and she loved him.

_Running diagnostics………WARNING: simulated emotions about to give away secret. Recommended actions………leave and get out of sight._

Cameron left them standing there, her eyes watering. What if John didn't love her in return? What was she supposed to do then? Closing the door to her room, she started to cry. She kept it quiet, so as not to disturb John. How odd, her processes thought. He might not love her back, but she would still do anything for him. He had to love her back, didn't he?

Trying to distract her processes, Cameron began cleaning her secret wounds: Fifteen gun wounds in her chest area and two in her thigh. As she cleaned them, Cameron could hear John laugh at something. Tears ran freely down her cheeks. Cameron no longer cared at the moment whether her feelings were automated or simulated; it still hurt.

Outside her door, Derek frowned before quietly closing the door handle. What had John done to the metal this time? Would she retaliate violently? He walked towards John, intending to get an answer. If he had to fight, he wanted to know why.


	2. Trying to Make It Up

Chapter Two

Trying to Make It Up

Derek approached John carefully as Riley left. He had had to wait seventeen minutes before the girl would leave. Derek wasn't sure if he liked her at all yet. Riley may help John feel normal, but what if she tried to make John leave? John had to remember that even though he was having fun, he was still destined to save mankind, to be their savior. No Reese, or Connor for that matter, could be distracted from that. He himself had to remember that.

So as Riley went back out the door, Derek approached his nephew. "What'd she want?" he asked. He wouldn't ask right away what John had did; John might flip like Sarah had an hour ago. But seeing Cameron cry was gnawing at him. The last thing they needed was for her to attack them again.

"Just checking up on me," John replied, his back to Derek. He was grabbing food out of the fridge. "She claims we should go on television with our dysfunctional family."

"She isn't any—" Derek glanced around to see if Sarah was around. When she wasn't, he continued. "—where fucking close. We're more messed up than Skynet slaughterhouses. You're the future leader of mankind who sends people back to save his own life, I'm your psychotic from-the-future mail-order uncle, your mother is a machine-hating paranoid, and your father's younger than you."

John grinned with him. "You're a machine hating paranoid, too, you know." Holding a knife and the jar of peanut butter, he turned around and grimaced. Derek frowned. What was wrong? He hadn't said anything too bad. For a brief second Derek was afraid Sarah was behind him. But he didn't sense anyone there.

"What?" Derek asked. John pointed at his head. Confused Derek felt his face. His nose was still broken from when Sarah smashed it earlier. Grunting he popped it back in place. John grimaced again. "Never knew your mom was such a fighter."

"Yeah, well, she is," John replied. He put the peanut butter and bread down on the table and began to spread.

Derek knew he could avoid the problem no longer; Cameron could walk out and shoot them all. He began to ask what John had done now, but that might start another fight. Instead he told him, "Cameron's crying," he gritted.

John spun around, the peanut butter knife in his hands. Derek tensed nervously. "What?" John echoed, something creeping into his features. "What'd you do this time?" Now he was angry. Derek thought quickly; John had a knife in his hands, even if it was only a butter knife.

Derek had never understood John's, or future John's, protection of machine allies. He tried, like always, to see it from John's point of view. John's first encounter with machines was being saved from one by another. That machine had saved his life right up to when it destroyed itself. So his life was closer to machines than Derek's. Derek could understand a little when he tried. But Derek's experiences and prejudices always got in the way. He would always distrust machines.

"I did nothing," Derek replied warily, eyes on the knife. John lowered it in confusion. Derek started again. "I saw it in its room crying, cleaning its wounds, and so—"

"What wounds?" John interrupted. Suddenly his eyes surged with fear and protection for the metal, and John raced past Derek, butter knife still in his hand. Derek breathed deeply and glanced behind him. So much for keeping it calm. He took John's sandwich and went outside.

John reached for the handle of Cameron's door. What did Derek mean she was hurt? Why was she crying? It couldn't be true; he would've noticed. Worry fueling adrenaline through him, John threw open the door.

Inside, Cameron reacted in surprise and looked up to see John standing in the doorway. John's eyes spotted her bared, wounded shoulder and teary eyes right as Cameron turned away from him. Dropping the knife on the floor, he raced for her and squatted down, hands on her shoulders. Cameron was already bagging the medical equipment.

"Cameron," John whispered. He was ready to cry; Derek had been right. Cameron, his Terminator, his protector, had been hurt. And he hadn't even noticed. He had been too busy talking to Riley to notice that Cameron was hurt. "Cameron," he repeated again. "You're hurt. What happened?"

"I am fine," Cameron replied blankly, keeping her face turned. John Connor had found out; he was distressed. _Processing………keep distress levels to minimum._

"No you're not," John countered. His left hand reached up and touched her chin. Cameron's processes overloaded and froze as he gently led her eyes to meet his. He was on the verge of tears as well. "What happened?" he asked.

_Proc-ERROR-proc-proc-ERROR CANNOT COMPUTE CANNOT COMPUTE SENSORY OVERLOARD processing………SOURCE IS EMOTION SIMU-110100001010001010101001011100-LATOR 00010101010100101………reset. Systems restored. Code turned off. Store behavior for later and analyze._

"A Terminator," Cameron told him simply. She wouldn't tell him Riley had been in danger; he would be more distressed. It was difficult to keep running when he touched her. Her simulator flooded her with an emotion she couldn't name or recognize as his hand moved up to her cheek.

"Are you hurt badly?" he asked. _Processing request………exterior damage. Suggested action: clean and wait._

"I have bullet wounds in my left shoulder area and back," Cameron replied. She noticed how he flinched when she said bullet. Did he care? John stood up and sat down on her left side. His fingers gently found one wound.

"This is my fault, isn't it?" John asked. He was perceptive for a human.

"No," Cameron lied. John's gentle eyes met hers, and a few of her processes were forced to restart. What was causing this malfunction?

"Tell me the truth."

"Yes." She couldn't lie to him when her processes were freezing, especially with one hand still on her cheek. His skin was warmer than usual, 99.3 degrees Fahrenheit. John took his hands from her, and he began to open up the medical kit. She faced him blankly. "I can take care of it," she stated.

"I insist," John replied, grabbing the tweezers. _Analyzing………showing protectiveness………protectiveness sign of caring? Store for comparison. _Her emotion simulator automated and made her feel warm as John's hands touched her bared shoulder. What emotion was warm?

"You don't have to do this," Cameron explained as John pulled the bullet out.

"Yes I do," John replied. If Cameron was going to get torn up protecting him from Terminators he didn't know, the least she deserved was to have her wounds cleaned. In fact, she deserved a lot more than he gave her due for. Yes, she had tried to kill him, but her chip had been damaged. Don't humans go crazy when their minds are messed with? And she had done so much before and after that would given any human life trust. Yet she didn't get it.

John moved towards her back, pulling out bullets and washing the entry wounds. Cameron didn't move, holding as still as a sculpture. John couldn't have told if she was off or not. Yet as he cleaned her, he found himself how smooth her skin was; she was perfect. He almost caught himself about to rub her back. _Focus_, John. _She needs medical attention, not a massage_.

"What happened to the Terminator?" John asked.

"I deactivated it permanently and stored it down a well. I intend to go back and dispose of it once you are done," Cameron explained. _She would have done all of this without alerting me. Why don't I get her any credit or trust? She's my protector. She…loves me._

"I'm going with you," John told her. Cameron didn't reply. _She's not going to do anything once we get there; I'm giving her a break. I'll take care of it._ John pulled the final bullet out and cleaned the wound. Her skin was already starting to heal in places. Placing the medical equipment away, John put a hand on her shoulder.

Cameron reacted slowly to John's touch on her shoulder, partly because his touch was causing that code and her emotion simulator to overload her processes, and partly because she wasn't sure how to react. Eventually she reached up and touched his hand. "How do you feel?" John asked.

She answered after a half-second of thought. "Better," she replied. Her hurt from before had faded when John had arrived and began helping her. Perhaps his attention had just been held. Perhaps he did love her. Her emotion simulator autonomously sent warmth through her again. She smiled at him. John smiled back.

"We should go finish the Terminator," Cameron said. John sighed in spite of her as she stood up. She never forgot her mission. He stood up as well and they walked out of the house. Derek looked slightly put off that Cameron was feeling better, but he looked relieved she wasn't attacking them, either.

"Where are you guys going?" Derek asked.

"To dispose of a T-888," Cameron replied. They were out of sight before Derek could catch up with what she was saying. Quietly the two walked together down the street towards the well. John thought quietly of things he could do to make it up to her. Perhaps they could hang out somewhere…Cameron always seemed to enjoy being near him. Maybe she would get a kick out of learning to blend in better, too.

They reached the well, and Cameron automatically began to reach for the rope. To her surprise, John stopped her. "You've done enough," he told her.

"You have a .974% chance of lifting the Terminator out," Cameron stated. She was confused; was this a human thing or a John thing?

"Then I will," John grunted. "You've done so much already." While Cameron was digesting what he said, John wiped his hands on his jeans and grabbed the rope. He pulled. The rope didn't move. Grunting, John heaved. Still nothing happened. Planting his feet at the base of the well, John readied his muscles. Cameron wasn't going to have to do anything other than relax.

He threw his energy into a burst, and the rope moved two inches. Then his burst of strength faded, and the rope returned to its original position. John started to brace himself again. Suddenly Cameron came up behind him, sliding her wrists into his hands while grabbing onto the rope.

"What?"

"You're doing it by yourself, like you asked," Cameron said. "I'm only holding onto the rope." John understood what she meant, gently—he didn't want to hurt her, even if he could—he moved her arms. The rope came easily in Cameron's grip. Cameron's back hand let go, and John moved it up further on the rope. They soon entered into a pattern, the rope coming up steadily.

As John moved her arms, he became aware of how close her body was to his own. She practically had her arms around him. John wasn't surprised to find that he enjoyed her embrace. He continued with the rope, and the Terminator came up. Cameron watched John's face light up with satisfaction and determination as the Terminator appeared over the well wall. It stirred and automatically started her emotion simulator. The same unrecognizable feeling swept through her, and it drove her to do something she wouldn't have dared done otherwise. Cameron reached forward and kissed John on the cheek, blushing immediately afterward.

The future leader of mankind was absolutely certain that if his hands had been on the rope and not Cameron's, he would have let go of it. As it was, he tightened his grip on her wrists to assure himself he wasn't dreaming. It took all of his effort to remember the Terminator and take it out of the well. He felt almost robbed when Cameron didn't kiss him again.

Slinging it over her shoulder, they jogged back to the house, staying hidden. It wouldn't do to be spotted carrying what looked like a corpse. They made it inside the garage, where they set the T-888 on fire and burned it away. As they watched it burn, John thought fervently. She had made the first move, hadn't she? Why would it matter?

His hand crept towards hers, and fingers interlocked. Cameron's reaction was controlled joy. She took a step closer and rested her head on his shoulder, actions dictated by her emotion simulator. For the moment, Cameron was grateful for the strange code in her chip. John meanwhile, was surprised by how much he felt for her at the moment. He was hoping he would get to kiss her, and that this time…

The door creaked, and both took a step away from each other. Derek popped his head out. So they had destroyed a Terminator. Good; one less metal to hunt them. "Your mother just got an important phone call," Derek explained. "Get in here." He shut the door.

John sighed; he wouldn't be getting his kiss right now. Instead he settled for caressing her cheek and speaking her name before walking inside. Cameron followed him, trying to keep her emotion simulator under control. It wouldn't do well to let her love show in front of Derek and Sarah. She was confident of one thing, though. John did care for her.


	3. Laying Low

Chapter Three

Laying Low

Inside, Derek was leaning against the table. A handgun was in his hand and a large handkerchief in the other. Across the kitchen at the sink, Sarah was swallowing two Tylenol pills with a glass of water. _Oh shoot_, John thought. Whenever his mother turned to Tylenol, it wasn't good.

"What's up?" John asked.

His mother set down the now empty glass and faced her son. John knew that look. It meant that she was going out to resolve something while he stayed 'safely behind.' John hated that. But he waited for his mother to speak. She did. "Derek got a call from a friend who's located a possible Skynet facility."

"I think I know the one he's talking about, too," Derek continued. "If he's right, it's Skynet's main control center for the area. Everything—tanks, planes, slaughterhouses, power stations, were hooked into it. If we take out that target, Skynet will have to organize everything around something else. And this control center is tough. Before I was sent back, we had no way to take it down, even with the metals." Derek admitted the last part regrettably. He would likely never trust one fully.

"So what is it right now?" John asked.

"An abandoned military installation. It's on the outskirts of town," Sarah answered. "Derek and I are going to collect any information we can on it. Then when we get back tonight we'll discuss what we'll do. In the mean time, John, I want you to stay here and out of trouble. No visitors."

"Like always," John muttered. He hated being left behind, especially now of all times. He'd proven himself hadn't he? Wasn't he the leader of mankind? Where would he get his experience, if not now? Derek stuck the gun in his pocket and covered it with the handkerchief. His mother rubbed his hair affectionately before going outside. Derek started after her, pausing to pick up a shotgun and toss it to John.

John caught it. "Just in case you run into trouble," Derek warned. He was careful not to glance at Cameron; he didn't need a fight with John.

"Like I'll need it," John muttered. Derek flipped John off and grinned, lightening the mood for a second. Then his uncle walked out the door as well. Cameron watched John move up to the window. He watched the car pull out and leave before dropping the shotgun on the table. There was definitely frustration in his movements.

"You're angry," Cameron noted.

"Just frustrated," John grunted. He paced around the table a moment, Cameron's eyes on him. He felt like justifying why. "It's just that…every time something needs to be done, whenever we have something we can accomplish, I never get to go. It's always too dangerous or too tedious to let me do it."

Cameron's processes John's reasons and possible retorts. "Perhaps they are worried that something would happen to you."

John threw his hands up into the air. "But I'm faced with danger by simply going to school! When am I supposed to get my experience to help save mankind if I never do anything?! I want to help, but everyone keeps turning me down! It's…it's…it's a pain in the—"

"You're threatened at school?" Cameron interrupted. Her hands were balled and her body was tensed. It took John a moment to see it from her point of view. The only thing that she had heard him say was that he was in danger at school. And she had nothing else since. _I better clear it up before she takes out the school_.

"I mean that it's far more likely for a Terminator to spot me at school than here at home," John explained carefully. "I'm not in danger in any way at school right now." _My English grade might be, though._

"I understand," Cameron said, her fists relaxing. As she spoke, her processes divided into two things. The first and larger portion examined the environment and infrareds outside for threats. The second ran a topic through her memory before asking John.

"What does this mean?" Cameron asked, flipping John off. John, who was in the living room, turned around to see Cameron giving him the finger. He took a second to remember she was asking about it, not actually doing it to him.

"It's a gesture that means 'fuck you' to whomever you're doing it to," John explained, coming up to her. _Processing………comparing phrase to matching vocabulary………WARNING! ABORT ACTION! MUST NOT SUGGEST TO CONNOR………culture dictates suggestion is wrong………analyzing WARNING emotion simulator automating………unknown emotion; comparing to similar emotions………similar to lust._

Cameron couldn't explain why; she just suddenly wanted John. Whether or not it was part of her autonomous emotion simulator she didn't know. She didn't even know exactly what she wanted of him. Struggling to keep control of her emotion, Cameron asked the question she had been planning to. "So Derek Reese was asking you to participate in copulation with—"

"NO!" John shouted, flushing red. His face was redder than she'd seen it. His life signs were normal, so he had to be deeply embarrassed. John coughed before continuing. "It doesn't literally mean that. It's more of an insult. Flipping someone off is an insult."

"Then he was insulting you?"

"No," John countered, confusing her more. "He meant it as a joke. I wouldn't suggest making a joke of it, though." _Analyzing………insult as joke………no solution; store subject for later analysis and comparison._

"Thank you for explaining," Cameron said. Which John knew meant she didn't understand.

"Just don't flip anyone off," he warned. The conversation over, John wandered back into the living room. Lacking anything better to do, he opened up his textbook and began to do homework. Halfway through he felt Cameron's presence standing over the couch. It made him uncomfortable having her stand while he sat.

Two problems later, John spoke. "You can sit down if you want." Cameron accepted the invitation and sat next to him. She said nothing as John continued, but he knew she was watching him without blinking. At first it had bothered him and he didn't understand why; the T-888 years ago would just stare at him, too. Eventually he had grown used to it, but he never understood why her stare had bothered him at first.

He groaned as he realized he'd gotten the problem wrong. John angrily erased the problem. As he started to write it again, Cameron slid a finger down his neck. John wanted to enjoy her cool touch on his neck, but he knew she was just doing a bio-scan. He probably wasn't the healthiest looking person right now.

However, Cameron surprised him when she began to rub his shoulders. When John tried to reply he was struck by how nice her hands felt, rubbing tension out of his muscles. He unconsciously made a sigh of contentment. It took him time and strength to finally speak. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I have an extensive medical knowledge, and it infers that stress can be reduced by massage," Cameron explained. "Is something wrong?"

"No," John admitted gratefully. "I just didn't know you knew how to give massages."

"Terminators know different spectrums of medical fields to improve our efficiency. I have simply never thought to apply it to reduce stress."

"It feels wonderful," John mumbled, closing his eyes. Cameron's hands were cool and smooth, and he could've enjoyed the massage endlessly. Thoughts occasionally tried to develop into a full train of thought, but few of them succeeded. _They should have Terminators distract their targets this way, _he thought wryly. One thought though, managed to develop into not only a full train of thought, but a plan.

John turned to smile at Cameron. She warmed up when he did, one or two processes freezing. "Do you know about sneaking out?" he asked.

"It is the process of escaping," Cameron replied, continuing to massage his shoulders.

"It's still only one," John noted. That smile still had not left his lips; it forced the processes trying to think ahead of him to freeze and restart. "Why don't we go sneak out and head to the mall?"

"That would be improper protocol," Cameron answered. "There is more chance of danger in the mall, and your mother said to stay here."

"Does everyone always do as they're told?" John asked. While Cameron was trying to find figures, he begged exasperated. "Come on, Cam; I don't want to be in this house. We'll be back before they know. Please, Cam?"

_Analyzing………not agreeing will distress John………suggested action………agree._

"Okay," Cameron agreed. John's face lit up, and Cameron's autonomous emotions made her feel so warm she could have sworn she was burning him. Yet he still felt warmer, and his smile was crashing her system. She stopped massaging his shoulders and got up simply so her processes could run smoothly.

John got up as well, without the massage to keep him seated. He put on his shoes and tied them. Springing up to his feet, John hid the shotgun first before walking out the door. Cameron followed him out the door, locking it behind her.

Outside, John's demeanor changed. Where he had been stressed and bored inside, now that he was outside he was happy and content. Cameron's memory stored it for later. John preferred to be outside. They crossed the street and started walking towards the mall. Cameron's processes went through several scenarios.

"What do you want to do?" Cameron asked.

"How about a bite to eat?" John asked back. If Cameron had a pulse, it would have quickened with the automatic feeling she felt. Was this the equivalent of a date? Her processes raced and clocked to figure out. They couldn't out in public; she was supposed to be his sister. But they could act close…

"That would be acceptable," Cameron agreed. As they reached the mall, Cameron's processes divided into numerous tasks. A few focused on appearing as a sister enjoying hanging out with her brother. Others kept watch of the environment for threats, while still more focused solely on John. Still more, in a futile attempt to keep her CPU fully working, estimated the probabilities what restaurant they would go to based on their path, John's preferences, and what he might be thinking.

Her probabilities proved right; they went to a Chinese fast foot spot. The line was impossibly short, but John took it with a grin and stepped in line. In line, he engaged Cameron in conversation. "How many people do you think are in this mall right now?" he asked.

"Currently…" A process entertained itself with deciding whether or not to provide a false number to act more normal. It decided to provide an accurate number as a guess. "…about seven thousand."

"Every one of these people has their own lives, their own personalities, and they all live in the same world," John said in a brief moment of awe. "We all interact, converse, share, and work together to form a community. It's wonderful." Cameron tried to understand it in the same context that John was talking about, and couldn't. It had to be a human thing.

They ordered their food and sat down. Despite a love of Chinese food, John had trouble with chopsticks. A half-grin was on Cameron's face as she watched him struggle with them, much like he had struggled with the rope. It was a John thing. Two of her processes worked on why she found it funny.

"Try this," Cameron suggested, holding them perfectly. John tried to replicate her and half-succeeded. He partially succumbed and used his fork. He did still stab a few things with his chopsticks. As he chewed on a mouthful of chicken, a question popped into his head.

"How many languages do you speak?" John asked.

"All that are currently employed by humans," Cameron replied. "I have no knowledge of dead languages."

"Do you think you could teach me some?" John asked. "I doubt that if we run into foreigners you'd want to serve as translator."

"I wouldn't mind," Cameron replied. That meant spending more time with John if she was his translator.

"Really?" John said, surprised. He thought she'd feel like doing something other than menial translation. "But would you mind teaching me some anyway?"

"I can teach you whatever you want to," Cameron replied. Even more time with John. John beamed; he enjoyed learning. However, their time was cut short by a noise John hadn't expected. His cell phone rang.

Freezing, both sat still a second, hoping they didn't hear that. But it rang again. Cupping his hand around it to block the noise, John answered the phone. "Hello?" John answered. If it was his mother, he was dead. If it was Derek…that remained a question.

"John? That you?" John was lucky; his uncle had the phone. "Listen, we're coming home."

"Already? What happened?" John asked, his worry forgotten and replaced by a different one. Cameron listened intently, improved listening catching all of it.

"Really bad s—ow! Okay! Really bad crap," Derek explained. "We'll tell you when we get home. You better be ready." In other words, Derek knew they weren't at home. At least he didn't say it out loud.

"Fine. We will be," John promised.

"Good," Derek said, then as an afterthought, "Ready the guns." He hung up.

John turned back to Cameron. "We should return," Cameron said, leaving her tray. They left the mall in a fast stride. Once they turned the corner, John began to run. Cameron kept up easily. John, in a full sprint, ran up to the door and half slammed through it. Cameron went through without even touching the frame. Grabbing the shotgun, John tried to relax his breathing. Cameron massaged his shoulders for five minutes until she heard the car pulling up. John was still stressed afterward.


	4. Quality Family Time

Chapter Four

Quality Family Time

John had been preparing himself for whatever came through that door. Cameron could identify, just within microseconds that his blood rate had gone up, his muscles were tensing, and that his breathing had quickened. All of it was invisible to a human eye, but her eyes weren't a human's. Automatically, as if expecting a threat to John's life, she readied her systems. Just in case, she checked thermals outside the door.

_Analyzing………two thermal signatures………small blood traces, few metallic objects, no coltan………signatures are human, one female, one male………analyzing………subjects are Derek Reese and Sarah Connor………threat level to John: zero._

But when Sarah flung open the door and Derek stumbled through after her, John shouted in shock. Cameron's battle systems nearly reacted before her processes recognized the shout was not in fear or alarm of threat. She forced them to halt, three microseconds after activating, as John ran to his uncle.

"Who shot you?" John asked, helping Derek sit down. Derek grabbed an ice pack Sarah tossed at him and held it against his leg. John looked around the medical kit. Cameron was already heading towards her room to grab it.

"A metal," Derek grunted angrily. Cameron could hear everything they said while she was gone. She grabbed the medical kit as John asked where.

"At the facility," Sarah replied for Derek. "There are two machines there guarding the facility."

"As well as several soldiers who think they're securing it for a mercenary group at all costs," Derek added.

"I thought you were collecting information," John asked suddenly wary. _Comparing………Based on past circumstances, John believes he was left behind. Analyzing Sarah's expression………belief is false._

"Derek wanted to inspect the facility to see if it could simply be blown up," Sarah explained, giving Derek a look. He returned it. "We arrived and spotted two Terminators easily. They were giving orders to a whole squad of soldiers on how to defend the facility. Derek only got shot because he ran in and started shooting at the men."

"Less for us to go back and kill anyway," Derek grunted. Cameron agreed with Derek's logic.

"So what now?" John asked. "Are we going back?" There was an emphasis on the word we. Derek tried to shift and grunted. John pulled back the ice pack to look.

"We should go back now," Derek began, but Sarah cut him off.

"There's an entire squad out there with two Terminators. There are three of us, Cameron, and you're injured. We have to at least get that bullet out of you and form a plan," Sarah argued. "Even with your shoulder healed, no plan will slaughter us."

"I can't take the bullet out," John said, grabbing the tweezers. "It looks too deep in. I'll probably rip out more than the bullet."

"I've had worse," Derek said, grabbing his arm and bracing his shoulder. His brow furrowed when John handed Cameron the tweezers. "Her?"

"She's got better eyes and control than me," John shot back. "Or you." Derek sighed and held still. If it hadn't been at John's insistence, and if only Cameron wasn't so important…

Cameron bent over and held Derek's shoulder with one hand. She reached in deftly and pulled out the bullet nearly painlessly. Then John wrapped the shoulder with padding and tape. Derek rotated his arm to test the bandage. It held tight, like he preferred. He stood up and stretched, limited only by his wound. He began selecting guns, satisfied with his bandage.

_Analyzing………Derek Reese at 97.33333333376% battle capacity. Estimated Kills before Death: fourteen humans. Chance of death: 12.5% Analyzing Sarah Connor………84.2489% battle capacity………estimated Kills before Death: twelve humans at least; statistics obscured by unknown strength occasionally exhibited………Chance of Death: 15%; Chance of hidden strength: factors unknown………Analyzing John Connor………battle capacity: 67%.........Kills before Death WARNING AUTOMATED 11000000100011000011010101 SIMULATOR 11001010110011 Estimated kills: unlimited; no chance of death possible JOHN CONNOR WILL SURVIVE.........Analyzing battle systems………98.9% battle capacity; estimated Kills before Termination: entire squad, 1.56 T-888; chance of shut down: 33.4%.........warning: highest percentage of termination: self; do not tell; John Connor will be distracted._

"We need a plan before we go attack a military installation with a squad and two machines," Sarah repeated.

"We should attack now," Cameron stated.

"What?" Sarah asked.

"T-888s will not be expecting second, stronger attack immediately after since there is no war in area; a second, stronger attack would surprise protocol," Cameron explained. Derek hated to admit it to himself, but Cameron was right; metals never saw the second attack. It was better they bring the fight to them than find the metals coming towards them while planning. The most planning they did in the future was who would attack what. It working pretty well for John Connor. It should now.

"So how would we spring surprise on them?" Sarah asked. This time John spoke up. If he was supposed to save humanity, he wanted to be a part of taking down an important Skynet bunker. He also wanted to shoot. He needed to learn to be able to kill, metal or flesh, that support Skynet. So far the most he'd shot was at Terminators, and that was while running.

"Mom," John started. "We do, uh, have those rocket launchers in the closet." Cameron's sensors examined the closet for tampering as Derek repeated what John said as a question. The closet was still secure. She moved to fetch them.

"We've had _rocket launchers_ and nobody told me?" Derek asked. "Even you knew?" he questioned Cameron. When she nodded, he groaned. "Why couldn't I know?"

"Because you would have wasted them. This is a good opportunity to use one or two to scatter the squad and possibly hit a Terminator," Sarah said.

"That will not fully destroy one," Cameron stated.

"It'll help," Derek grunted. "And it will help take out some of those soldiers. Come on, Sarah, you know we won't get a better shot at taking down this facility." His voice sounded as though he'd tried many times.

That was how the four of them were outside, loading picnic baskets into the back of their car. John and Derek were loading the baskets while Cameron was hiding the launchers. Sarah was readying the first aid kit. Their landlady came over.

"Hello, Sarah," their landlady greeted. Sarah walked over and greeted her. Cameron threw a blanket over the launchers, and John and Derek pulled their shirts down, hiding any weapons showing. They made sure the picnic baskets were completely covered.

"Good afternoon," Sarah replied.

"Where are you four going?"

"Oh just out for some quality family time," Sarah answered. John and Derek snickered quietly as they shut the trunk. _Quality family time? This is my quality family time? Where did mom get a phrase like that? What's a war then: a family reunion? _He glanced over at a blank-faced Cameron. He gave her a sympathetic smile. _She'll understand some day_.

"Well do have fun with that," their landlady offered, and left. Sarah climbed in the driver's seat and shut the door. Derek and John hopped in with Cameron. They started the engine and drove off.

"_Quality family time_?" Derek asked, bursting out in laughter.

"Shut up, Derek," Sarah grunted. "Or I'll beat you up again." Derek continued to laugh and shake his head. Now that they were driving, they took out their weapons of choice. Derek and Sarah had automatics across their laps. John pulled out a sawed-off shotgun, while Cameron had a scope rifle.

"You had a point, though," Derek continued. "This is the most time we spend together. How messed up is that?"

"Derek, look where my gun's pointing," Sarah warned. Derek did and stopped. He did give John a grin when Sarah wasn't looking. John grinned back. Sarah drove at a regular pace, taking back roads to get out to the installation. When they rammed through a poorly blocked fence gate, none of them paid it much attention. The car was stopped just outside sight of the installation. Sarah and Cameron grabbed the launchers while John and Derek grabbed the picnic baskets.

"Why did we use these again?" Derek asked.

"They look nicer than wooden boxes," John answered. "They blend in better. You know that."

"Yeah, but this one feels like it's going to snap." They stopped within a couple hundred feet of the facility, behind a couple empty barrels and chunks of concrete. Cameron used her scope to increase her vision.

"The Terminators aren't in sight," Cameron stated.

"They will be once their men are blown away. Then we can cripple the metals," Derek replied, dropping the baskets. He pulled away the covers to reveals rockets. Sarah and John started loading the two launchers. Derek grabbed one and held it.

"John and I will keep you loaded," Sarah muttered. "Just fire at the squad. Cameron, pick off anyone that strays from the group."

"If the T-888s appear?" Cameron asked.

"Point them out," John answered for his mother. An idea occurred to him. "See if you can't locate a destructive point in the facility while you're shooting. It'll make it easier to destroy it."

"Understood," Cameron said. She loaded her rifle and aimed at the facility. _Processing mission objectives………Ensure the survival of John Connor at all costs; Terminate stranded soldiers; watch for T-888 presence; locate explosive facility points………mission objectives understood; begin terminating._

Cameron shot the first soldier as Derek fired a rocket at a group. Both resulted in kills. Cameron had already reloaded and shot two more, straight through the heart, by the time Derek had picked up the second rocket launcher. The second rocket struck a truck and scattered shrapnel.

"Move closer!" Derek shouted as soldiers retreated into the facility. He ran with a rocket launcher loaded, John and Sarah running after him with the second and ammo. Cameron calmly walked after them, firing at individual soldiers. Derek ran into a crouch and shouted, "Clear!" before firing. He struck a group of three.

Gunfire was being returned by the few survivors. Cameron shot one that was aiming straight at her. Derek fired off another rocket. Suddenly Cameron saw something flying through the air. "Grenade!" she shouted, wrapping herself protectively around John. The grenade missed them by twenty feet; Derek narrowly avoided having shrapnel rip his face apart. Angry, he fired off one more rocket before picking up his machine gun.

Derek shot from the hip, yelling in fury. His curses were barely audible over the distinct prattle of automatic gunfire. "You mother f—"

"Derek! Get back here!" Sarah shouted. When he didn't obey, Sarah sighed and picked up her gun. "Cameron! Keep John safe!" she ordered before taking after Derek. They were headed towards the left. Cameron fired at a soldier and reloaded.

"Let's head to the right!" John shouted, loading a rocket launcher. Cameron didn't answer; she disagreed with him as she took out another soldier. Getting closer would put John in danger…_Processing target………target was not human; target was T-888………threat level minimal………suggested action: terminate immediately._

"Terminator," Cameron said, pointing at the soldier she'd shot. John readied the launcher and fired. The Terminator turned to see the rocket and was blasted by it deeper inside. Carried along with the fighting, John grabbed his shotgun and ran for the T-888. Cameron was forced to come with him, shooting at any soldier that dared shoot at John.

Inside, John chased a fiery shrapnel trail into a large room with exterior halls and one or two cargo ship crates. Cameron didn't like it; the Terminator could surprise them from the halls, behind a crate, or inside one. Fortunately, as John burst recklessly into the room, the Terminator hadn't been able to get that far. It turned around, one leg limping, and aimed what looked like a popgun at Cameron.

_WARNING! IN IMMEDIATE DAN—_Cameron was blasted across the room by compressed air, smashing into a crate. She heard John shout something vulgar and blast the Terminator with his shotgun. She flew to her feet, loading the rifle. If that much force struck John in the wrong way, or he landed the wrong way, she would never forgive herself.

John shot at it again, and the Terminator was blasted onto its back, weapon damaged. It recognized it and threw it at John's head. Cameron got there first. She moved John out of the way, only to be struck by it in the shoulder. It knocked her back down. John continued to shoot at the Terminator, keeping it down.

Getting back to her feet, Cameron shot the Terminator in the chest, right where the power supply was. The point-blank shot damaged the coltan armor. Then the Terminator kicked at Cameron, knocking her feet out from under her. John shouted her name panicked. He punished the Terminator by shooting at its head.

Cameron pushed herself into the air with her hands. In midair, she shot the same point again, further damaging the coltan. Then, coming back down, Cameron shoved the rifle barrel at the weakened point. It crashed through the damaged coltan and stopped halfway through the battery. In response the T-888 jerked. Cameron loaded and fired, plunging a high-velocity bullet through the battery and back as it bounced off coltan on the other side.

"Is that it?" John asked.

"No; it will access its alternate battery if its chip is not removed," Cameron explained, kneeling next to the head. John knelt with her and took his knife out. He carved open the spot, and Cameron pulled the chip out. She crushed it in her hand. "Now it is terminated."

"Are you all right?" John asked.

"My combat systems are still at 89.4%," Cameron answered, getting to her feet.

"That's not what I meant," John insisted. "Are you all right?"

Her automated emotion simulator flooded her with warmth as she looked at him. John was worried about her. "I am fine," she smiled. John smiled back. _Warning: battle still commencing; must not be distracted; John Connor must not be distracted. Processing and analyzing………mission objectives………John Connor must survive; locate Sarah and Derek; continue search for explosive points._

"We should find Sarah and Derek," Cameron suggested. John nodded, accepting what she told him. He checked his shotgun, reminding her to check her rifle. The barrel had been completely ruined by piercing the coltan; it was useless. She looked at his shotgun; its infrastructure was still 99% intact.

"How many more rounds do you have?" Cameron asked.

John checked. "Not much," he admitted. "Maybe nine…" Suddenly something struck Cameron and flung her into the wall, and John felt an iron grip on his shoulder.

"John Connor?" the other T-888 asked.


	5. Rescuing

Chapter Five

Rescuing

John panicked. There was only one thing that could be standing behind him and asking him his name. Spinning around he brought the shotgun to bear and fired. It ended up saving his life. A handgun that had been in the Terminator's hand was reduced to wreckage as John's panicked shot ruined what the Terminator had intended to kill him with. Improvising, the Terminator threw him into a crate.

Bouncing painfully off the crate onto the ground, John was both frustrated with the Terminator and himself. The first Terminator had never planned to kill him; it had been a lure to bring John Connor out of safety. And he had helped by distracting Cameron. He struggled to his feet as the T-888 unveiled something else to kill him with: a grenade. John raised the shotgun and fired to slow it down. The Terminator staggered with the blow, but still pulled the pin and threw it across the room.

Cameron bounded from where she'd landed and threw herself protectively around John, kicking the grenade back. It exploded before it reached the T-888 again. Shrapnel landed all around them, some of it harmlessly smashing into the crate. Cameron moved away from John as the Terminator started towards them with a pike.

"Cameron: your leg," John muttered. There was a chunk sticking out of the back of her calf.

"Run John," Cameron ordered.

"But your leg—"

"John! Go! Run and hide!" Cameron shouted, trying to shove him along. John's legs were unresponsive. How was he supposed to leave Cameron behind to face it with a bad leg? But part of him knew that staying would distract Cameron further as the Terminator continued to advance on them. At this point, he was a liability. So, heart ripping itself apart, John turned and ran. He paused to see what was happening. The Terminator was nearly on top of her with that pike. John fired; his shot distracted the Terminator long enough. He turned and ran, hating himself for it.

Ducking out of the room, John stopped and glanced down a hallway. He couldn't stand leaving Cameron. Besides, hadn't she only told him to hide? She'd never said how far to go. The Terminator only had a pike. If it truly came to it, he could outrun it. John turned and ran down the exterior halls of the room, keeping low. He stopped and took a knee, just barely able to see through the glass. He reloaded as he did.

His shot had bought Cameron time enough to grab the Terminator and shove it back across the room. She was limping over to finish it as the T-888 was getting to its feet. It swung at her with the pike. Cameron's hands caught it but it still swung her into the wall. Crushed between the wall and the pike, Cameron shoved the pike away, giving her room to move. She lifted the Terminator by the pike and tossed both farther back into the wall.

John wanted to smile in spite of Cameron. _Even with a poor leg, she's dominating the T-888. Why has she always been so hesitant of them? It's got a weapon and it's still losing! Wait, something's now right here. If she's winning so badly, why did Cameron want me to leave? It's not that difficult so far._

Then the Terminator did something to the pike and swung. Cameron blocked the tip, and a burst of electricity blasted her hand away. The end of the pike was a Tesla Coil. The Terminator struck Cameron in the chest, knocking her back with an electric burst. John panicked: what if the strike had forced her to reboot?

Fortunately, she got back up; she hadn't been exposed to the crackling electricity long enough. John's exhaled. But his senses remained sharp; Cameron had to deal with electricity. _This is why she wanted me gone; a touch of that would likely kill me._ For some reason, John's imagined death didn't bother him if Cameron was safe afterwards.

Back on her feet, Cameron was acting more cautious. She and the T-888 stared each other down, analyzing and trying to estimate the other's attack pattern. It was like watching two chess players play; they never moved their pieces but they knew what the other would do. Then they started. Cameron yanked the shrapnel out of her leg, causing John to flinch for her, and threw it at the T-888's head. It was struck but the shrapnel did little more than bounce off. Cameron followed through by jump kicking the Terminator across the room.

As Cameron approached the Terminator, it swung at her with the charged pike. Cameron dodged the tip, and the Terminator slashed at her with the regular end, marring her face. John struggled to keep hidden. _How dare it hurt her!_ He knew he was being irrational, but he couldn't help himself; nothing should hurt Cameron. He finished loading the last of his ammo into the shotgun and closed it angrily.

While Cameron turned with the blow, the Terminator kicked her away. It got to its feet and stabbed her with the Tesla Coil end. John felt a pang of hurt as the shock threw Cameron back into a crate, denting it. He couldn't stand watching Cameron get hurt; it was killing him. _Come on, Cam; you can do it. Just finish off the coltan son of a bitch._

Cameron got to her feet and she looked ready to do just that. She moved straight for the Terminator and its electric pike. It swung at her feet. Cameron jumped over it and moved to stomp down on the pike. _What's she doing?!_ But as soon as her foot touched it, she grabbed the T-888 by the throat. The cracking electricity.

Neither one moved. It took John a minute to figure out what was happening. Cameron had created a circuit through them and the pike. The only two ways to break it was if the battery ran out or turn off the pike. John silently applauded her for the move. For tense minutes he watched. What if Cameron suffered damage from the electricity running through her system?

Finally the T-888 flipped the pike off, and slammed Cameron in the head. She stumbled, keeping her grip on the machine's throat. The T-888 struck her side with the pike and grabbed her wrist. It threw her off of it. Cameron landed on her feet this time and charged the Terminator. She dodged a swing of the pike and jammed it in the stomach, knocking it into the air. As it came down, Cameron shoved it into a wall, cracking concrete.

John was elated. She moved in for the kill when the Terminator pointed the pike at her and turned it back on. Thunder rolled through the room as the Tesla Coil blew Cameron all the way back into a crate. Just as quickly, the T-888 lowered the power in the coil and threw the pike at the crate. The tip jammed in, and it stayed.

Cameron struggled to get away but couldn't move. John was horrified; the Terminator had used her own trick against her. A current was running through the crate and Cameron, sticking them together. By lowering the power, it would last longer while still keeping Cameron stuck. Cameron was helpless as the Terminator came towards her.

John's fuse blew. This T-888 wanted to hurt Cameron, and he was just going to stand here? Not if he could help it. John got to his feet and ran down the hall. He had to hurry. If he could just get it to chase him, lure it away and find Derek and Sarah, then Cameron would be all right, and he could come back and just turn the pike off. All he had to do was give it a motive.

John burst back into the room, shotgun ready. The T-888 had its back to him, heading for Cameron on the other side of the room. Cameron saw John coming and her eyes panicked, desperate for him to be away. She didn't dare say anything that would give him away, even as the T-888 approached to kill her. John, however, was not about to let it touch her.

A good distance from them, he raised his voice and shouted, "Hey you! Over here! I'm John Connor!"

The T-888 turned around and saw John Connor marching towards him. It started walking to meet him. His cover blown, Cameron started talking. "John, no. Run John. Run; I'll be fine. John, run…" John wasn't quite listening. He was pumping his shotgun to blast the thing that had marred Cameron.

John first his first shot. The Terminator jerked with the shot. It still came at him. Anger venting his determination, John continued to march towards it. He fired a second time. This time the Terminator slowed with the impact. John wasted no time in blasting it a third time.

The Terminator was closing the distance. John fired a fourth shot. Now, the T-888 actually paused. John stopped marching and fired the shotgun at its head a fifth time. The T-888 stumbled back. He fired a sixth time. The Terminator nearly fell over. John loaded the last shot and waited a second. He focused.

The trigger was pulled on his final, seventh shot. The Terminator stumbled backwards, barely staying on its feet. Common sense told John he had its attention. But he wasn't done with it. Flipping it off, John ran forward and swung the shotgun at it. The Terminator's head flinched with the hit, and John hit it again. He swung for a third hit when the Terminator caught the shotgun and wrenched from his hands.

Now he could run. John backed up, flipping the Terminator off again. "Come on!" he shouted. "Come on! Is that all you got?!" He started to turn and run. The Terminator, however, didn't follow him; it started walking in the other direction. John stopped. _What is the matter with this one? I couldn't have damaged its chip._

The T-888 headed straight back for Cameron. Holding the shotgun like a club in one hand, it procured a second grenade. "Come back John," it called. "Come back or I'll kill her."

John's blood froze.

Immediately Cameron began begging and crying for John to go. "Don't do it, John! Don't do it! I'll be fine! Run John! John! Run! I'll be fine just run! Don't! John, don't please John don't…" The T-888 watched John for a half-second. It knew it had him. It moved to place the grenade next to Cameron's face. That's when John snapped a second time. Sprinting at the T-888 amidst Cameron's screaming pleads not to, John howled.

"Don't you touch her!" John roared. As he got closer, the Terminator dropped the grenade; it hadn't been armed at all. It was just another of its tricks to get him closer. John didn't care; his vision was bloody and the T-888 was his target. He couldn't think straight; it had threatened Cameron.

The Terminator turned towards John as he charged it, roaring at the top of his lungs. It started to swing the shotgun at John's head. John barely cared if it hurt, let along killed him. He was going to strike it at least for threatening her life. Suddenly, as the shotgun neared, John could _see_. He caught the shotgun with one hand and punched the Terminator with his other, knocking it to the ground.

Cameron's voice froze. Had John just stopped a lethal blow and knocked a Terminator to the ground? How was that possible? Her limited processes struggled to see. _Analyzing………adrenaline levels at 200%.........250%.........300%.........350%_

John had heard a few wild rumors about mothers lifting and tossing cars in order to save their children. He had never believed them and dismissed them as patronizing mothers. Yet as he stood there, he felt...brimmed with strength and power. He had knocked a Terminator….the Terminator. John's thinking clouded again as he remembered what had just tried to kill Cameron.

Grabbing the fallen Terminator by the arm, John roared and flung it. It soared across the room, crashing into the ground. He ran after it. The T-888 barely got to its feet before John shoulder tackled it. Crashing into the ground again, it struck him in the back. John barely felt it; he got on his knees and began striking the Terminator's face with his fists. The T-888 attempted to bash him with the shotgun; the barrel wrapped around his shoulder.

John hopped to his feet so fast he didn't feel it, and tossed the Terminator again. He yanked the shotgun off of him and ran after the Terminator. As it rose to its feet, John dived and kicked at one of its legs. The power of his strike bent the coltan skeleton backwards, snapping wires. John leaped to his feet and threw a punch at the T-888.

The T-888 dodged and swung back. John could see everything the T-888 was doing with adrenaline-filled eyes. It managed to strike him and John barely felt it. He shoved it hard, and it smashed into the ground. The Terminator kicked John away as it got to its feet. John got on his own feet and was back over just as quickly.

As he caught its arm, John felt a tinge of tiredness. His brain cleared enough for him to realize the adrenaline was wearing out. The Terminator would know this, and that would be the end of him. So he bent the Terminator's arm coltan bone, crippling it as well. He threw its head down into the ground and got behind it.

Forcing the Terminator to its knees, John wrapped his arms around its throat and began to yank. He felt something giving. The T-888 tried to save itself and struck him. John felt it more with his adrenaline fading; it was like a regular punch. He groaned and forced his energy into a burst. The head ripped off with a snapping of twisted metal and singing of wiring.

Throwing the head to the ground, John roared and stomped down on it. The head fizzed as the inside chips and boards were crushed. John's shoe was spilt, and his foot ached from the pressure. John pulled his foot away and looked, strength leaving him. The Terminator was definitely destroyed.

The adrenaline leaving his body, John glanced behind him. Cameron was still stuck to the crate. He stepped to turn around, and his strength left him. John started to fall backwards, any strength in his limbs completely sapped. A faint sound greeted his ears as he fell backwards likely to crack open his head.

Suddenly he was enveloped in somebody's arms. He looked up to see Cameron cradling him, on her knees. _I guess the coil ran out of power. That's a lucky break._ His limbs felt so heavy; John couldn't imagine how he'd ever moved him so effortlessly all his life.

"John," Cameron said, tears in her eyes. "You're hurt."

"No," John managed after several tries. It was an effort. "Just tired." He felt like sleeping. He probably could in Cameron's arms.

"You stayed," Cameron said, wiping away tears.

"Huh?"

"You stayed," she repeated. "You stayed to help me. You didn't let me become terminated." What emotion was shining on her face? John felt horrible for not helping earlier; her beautiful face wouldn't be marred for the moment.

"Of course," he answered, summing up energy. He focused and let out the last of his strength. "I love you." Suddenly he felt his lips pressed to hers. His heart raced; his blood coursed hot through his body. His limbs, despite being exhausted beyond belief, rose slowly up to slip around Cameron's form. He kissed her back as best as he could. Blackness started to slip over his eyelids as his body shut down, unable to anything else.

Cameron broke off, killing John's hope he would lose consciousness kissing her. "You're tired," she stated, regaining a little of the strength in her voice. John attempted a shrug and failed. The blackness of sleep over his eyes was coming down.

"I still love you," John promised. He put two fingers to his lips, and reached for hers. His arm refused to go more than five inches. Cameron brought her lips down to them. That was good enough for him. John closed his eyes and slipped off into sleep.


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue

I'll Always Love you

A week later, John's energy was barely back. He'd been in bed for three days, simply recovering what he'd lost. He didn't remember much until a few days ago, but Cameron had been more than willing to explain to him what had happened when Sarah and Derek weren't checking in on him.

After he'd fallen asleep, Cameron had stood up to find Sarah and Derek. She hadn't taken more than five steps when Sarah and Derek found her. Upon seeing John, Sarah had lost her nerve. She raised her gun and pointed it directly at Cameron's head, intent on killing the machine responsible for what might be her son's death. It had taken Derek to stop her.

Derek never stayed around for the next part. John knew why; he was too prejudiced to admit it.

Derek had thrown Sarah's gun away, grabbed her by shoulder, and shouted at her until Sarah admitted to common sense. That had taken awhile; Sarah refused to see common sense and shouted back. Eventually, she calmed down enough to see Derek's point that if Cameron had killed John, she wouldn't be taking the body with her. Still suspicious, Sarah had listened for John's pulse and breathing. When she had heard both, she was satisfied with Cameron's explanation that he was exhausted.

On the way back, Derek asked why John had fallen asleep. Cameron had told them without impunity: John had received an adrenaline rush of more than 350%, and he had destroyed a T-888. Enter family crisis two. Sarah had slammed on the brakes and headed straight for the hospital, terrified that such exposure would kill her son. Derek had asked, "Really?"

Cameron, with Derek's grudging help, convinced Sarah rest was the best thing for him. They headed home, where their landlady asked their picnic had been. Derek took John to look more realistic, and Sarah explained with a smile that John had fallen asleep after overexerting himself in a race. Once inside, John had been sleeping, with Sarah and Derek checking on him, and Cameron never leaving his bedside.

John sat at the docks, now, sitting a table outside a café. Cameron sat across from him, watching him intently. He turned to face her. "What is it?" he asked.

"You haven't touched your warmed chocolate," Cameron explained. It wasn't hot anymore; it had cooled by fifteen degrees. "Are you all right?"

John smiled. "I'm fine; just thinking."

"You still haven't resumed regular eating habits," Cameron countered. She looked worried.

"Would you feel better if I did?" John asked.

Cameron's processes pretended to think about while her emotion simulator automatically went off. "Yes." Sighing, John finished his entire hot chocolate for her. Cameron's eyes still didn't leave him. Stretching, John turned away towards the waterfront, glancing at his hands. A week ago he had smashed a Terminator with them. He had his strength back, but he remembered the pure power that had coursed through his veins before. It had been incredible, now that he could think straight. If only there was a way to bestow human with such strength naturally, maybe Terminators wouldn't be such a threat…

John's thoughts derailed as Cameron's hands massaged his shoulders. His head rolled back. "You looked stressed," Cameron explained. Her processes worked; had she interrupted something?

"Not anymore," John mumbled, closing his eyes. Satisfied, Cameron scanned the environment. _Analyzing………several humans………no machines………no malevolent expressions or actions; threat level: zero. Suggested actions: relax, blend in._

"I love you," Cameron whispered.

"I'll always love you," John replied. Cameron didn't answer back. She didn't quite understand that John was trying to instigate a contest. Her processes naturally thought a contest between them was useless; she'd win. " How about we try bowling?"

"Bowling?" she repeated.

"Yeah; remember, Derek tried it once with Sarah and our landlady? I could beat you in that," he suggested.

Cameron's processes were ahead of them. While some focused on the massage, others still scanned the environment, one or two calculated his pitiful chances. "Your chances in winning are .782% if I try," Cameron stated.

"What if I have another adrenaline rush?"

"Your chances of an adrenaline rush are .00911%, and if you did, your chance of destroying the bowling alley is 84.76838%, and 100% of needing to rest again," Cameron added. John sighed and smiled.

"Want to go anyway?"

"Yes." She stopped the massage and stood up as John pulled himself out of his seat. They headed towards the car, Cameron driving. Sarah didn't want him near the wheel or any weapon until she was certain John was completely healthy. Cameron had no problem with that. She opened the driver's side door and slid in. John climbed in as well, and they drove off, John kissing Cameron on the cheek. Her processes completely crashed for two seconds.

As they were driving, Cameron spotted something. _Subject ahead at 200 feet and closing………Analyzing………subject is Riley……..Riley recognizes the vehicle; Riley recognizes me, has not seen John………Riley is 190 and closing………John hasn't spoken or acknowledged her……………..Riley is 50 feet and closing; suggested actions:………processing………_

As Cameron passed Riley, where Riley could see, Cameron gave her the finger and kept driving. John raised an eyebrow, highlighting an amused smile.

"Did you just flip Riley off?" John asked.

"Of course," Cameron answered. John threw his head back and laughed.


End file.
